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GIFT   OF 


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AN    ODE 


UPON   THE 

SEMI-CENTENNIAL  OF   FRANKLIN  AND   MARSHALL  COLLEGE, 

JUNE,    1903 


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BY    LLOYD    MIFFLIN 


Si  monumentum  requiris,  circumspice 


Now,    on    this    memorable   day, 
Within    this   fertile   garden    of  the    land 

Blessed   with  perennial   streams, 
Swatara,    Conowingo,    and    Pequea, 

And   hundred    brooklets    clear   as    they 

With  which    the    region    teems ; 
Rich   with    alluvial    valleys,    that   the   hand 
Sprung   from    the    German,  honorably   tills, 
And   where   the    cattle   on    a   thousand   hills 

Browse    ankle-deep    in   clover-bloom, 
Or   by    the    Conestoga    margin    wade 

Far   in    the   willowy    shade ; 
Now,  when    the   green    illimitable   vales 

And    dimpled    slopes    and    dells 

Shed   round    the    rare    perfume 
Of  coming   harvests   with    their   wealth    replete. 


And   here,   returning   to    the    dales 
Amid   the    fruitful    heat, 
June,    reminiscent   of  the    rippling   sea 

And   all   its    rolling   swells, 
Waves  with  her  breath  our  ripening  fields  of  grain 
And    makes   a   billowy   ocean    of  the   wheat ; 

Now,  when    the   lambs    are   in    the    flock 
And    call    across    the    o^reen  ; 
And  when    the  red-winged  blackbird  on  the  dock 

Sings   as   he   settles    down,    serene 
In    cloudless    ecstasy, 
And   the   dear   lark,  with  joy   akin    to   pain, 
Floats   o'er   our   fields — a   feathered   song- — 

Pathetically   sweet ; — 
In    such   a   time — so  joyous — it   were    meet 

That   we,    ephemera   of  an    hour 

Who    to    the   living   still   belong. 
Should   lift  our  voices  through   the  lips   of  Song 

In    recognition    of  the    price, 
In    recognition    of  the    faith — the    power, 

The   courage   and   the   sacrifice, 

The    struggles,   often    threatening   defeat, — 
The    final    triumph   of  the    men    now    dead, 

English   and    German    bred. 

Whose    effort   and   whose   aid 
Made   possible    this    studious    retreat. 
These    College    Halls,   cresting   the   gentle    glade, 


These   Academic   bowers^ 
These   stately  Walls   in  classic   shade 
Crowned   with   their   clustered    towers ! 

Well   may   we   praise  these    men    of  old, 

Whose    work   of  faith    untold — 
A   faith   that   here    survives — 

Helped   rear   this   dual    Hall ; 

And   those   who   brought   their   gold, 
And  those  who,   being  poor,   gave  more  than  all 

In   that  they   gave   their   lives ! 
Honor  the  Founders  !       men    to   be    revered  ; 
We  need  not  name  them,  are  they  not  renownetl 

And   to    the   heart    endeared  ? 

And    those   that   clustered    round 

Your   alien    Flower   from    Heidelberg ; 
And   him    who    drew   the   lightnings    down. 

The    o-enerous    Printer   of  renown 

Who,    at   the   age   of  eighty-one, 
With   patriot   hands — 
That  now  are  dust  a  hundred  years   and  more — 

Here   where   the    Colleofe    stands. 

Laid    the   first    corner-stone, — 
His    name    in    part   your   Alma    Mater    bears ; 
While   as   an    added   coronal    she   wears 

Others    especially  her    own — 

A   glorious    line    of  men    of  lore : 


Your    College   knows    each   honored   name, 
She   held    them    reverent   of  yore 
And   worthy   of  acclaim  ; 
And   in    your   Annals   where    each    one   appears 
The   page    is   blotted    by   her   grateful    tears. 
You    love   their    memory,    and   they   live   apart 
Enshrined   within    the    sanctum    of  the  heart : 
Honor   the   Scholar,    and   the    Good,    the   Just ! 
Honor   the    silent   dust ! 

Yea  !    honor  them — the  dead  !    as  time  withdraws 
We   see   they   bravely   battled   in    their   cause. 
Duty   hath   still   her   heroes — valiant  Knights 
Unblazoned    by   the   world,    but   in    men's   hearts 

Their    silent   deeds,    like   beacon-lights 

Shine   on,    and   guide    us    from    afar. 
The    mortal    comes ;     he    labors,    and    departs ; 
But   strongly  girt   with    spiritual    powers 

His   soul   beams   on    us   like   a   star 
That   still    doth    shed 
Its   first    effulgence    though   the    star   be    dead — 

Though   gone,    the   light   survives : 

And   if  our   lips   are   sealed 
From    plaudits    for   the   living,    none   the   less 
Time,    the    recorder,    on    his    scroll    revealed, 
Will    show    the    morrow   they    fulfilled   their    trust 

With   honor   and   with    nobleness : 


Teachers    of  fervid   zeal ; 
The   guardian    mentors   in   an   age   complex ; 

Torch-bearers    of  the   future's   weal ; 
True   to   the    motto    on    their   chosen    Seal — 
Lux   et   Lex ! 
Lo,    the   old    Nation,    day   by   day, 

Passes,    alas !     away. 
And   the    new    Nation    needs 
Men    of  high    purpose   and   heroic    deeds 
For   the    stern    conflict   of  the    Country's    life. 
Send   forth,    O    College,    such   as   these ! 
Unto   thy   land   give   thou    such   legacies ! 
Equip    thy   youth   with    rugged   virtues  high, 
Not   with   that   apathy   the    indifferent   wear 

Fatal    to   man   and   state, 
But   anchored,    resolute   to   do   and   dare, 
Unpurchasable,    of  nerve   and   deed. 

Men    simply-great. 
With   deep    conviction,    who,    at   utmost    need 
Would   stand   the   champions   of  the   State, 
Aofainst   her  foes 
Storming   the    enemy's   gate 
With   thundrous    eloquence   of  patriot   words ; 
Or,    if  necessity   arose. 
Girt   with   inviolate   swords 
Fulgent   with    light. 
Battle    for    Conscience,    Liberty   and    Right ; 


Such   men    the   voice   of  History   doth    revere — 
O    nurture   them   within   this    College   here ! 

What   of  the    donors  ? — those   who    in    the    stress 
Of  arduous    seasons    to   the    rescue    came, — 

Look   o'er   that   fair   demesne, — 
The  statued  lawn,  the  noble  piles,  the  storied  green, — 

Are    not    the    beauty   and    the   loveliness 

Of  such    Memorials    sufficient   fame, 
With  sweet  remembrance  througrh  the  acjes  hence  ? 

— Sufficient   recompense  ?  .  .  .  . 
From   the   lone   bourn    of  life's   long    pilgrimage 
Let   him   reply,    who    dwells    in   honored   age — 
Founder  of  that  fair   Hall  which  bears   his    name — 
Is    there   a   crown    more   grateful    to    the   brow 

Than    this    that   crowns    him    now  ? 

Mother   of  Learning,    hail ! 
Oh,    mayst   thou,    prosperous,    rejoice 
For   years    recurrent   of  thy  Jubilee ! 
Long   may   thy   turrets    beckon,    and    thy    voice 
Summon    the   youth   from    many   a    distant   vale ! 

Long   may   men    find   in    thee, 

Within   thy   classic   pale. 

Blessing   of  studious    serenity — 
The    ethereal    fruit   and   flower   of  the   Wise ! 
And   when   this   age   shall   pass,    as   pass   it   must, 


And    crumble    into    dust, 
Thy   towers    shall  still   arise,    gladding   the    eyes 

Of  true    men   yet    to    be, 

And   by   the    side   of  these 

Grouped    'mid   the   gracious   trees, — 

Mater   of  sweet  amenities  ! — 
May   added    Halls   and   new-built   spires 
Lift   their   enlightening   crests   above   the   lawn ; 
And   the   still    Greater    College   rear   her   head — 

Greater,    not    dearer   than    the   old, — 

And   wider   radiance    shed, 
And   by   her   lustrous    effluence   manifold 

Illumination    spread, — 
True   harbinger   of  the    new-born    world's    desires. 

Forerunner   of  the   hoped-for    Dawn 

That    ever    in    the    future   glows. 

To   which   the   soul   aspires ; 
And   as   the   depths  of  Ignorance   decrease 

And   the   dense   darkness   goes. 
Oh,    mayst   thou,    filled   with   potency   anew 

The   sacred   cause   pursue 

Nor   with   the    Century   cease, 
But   still    may   Learning   blossom   as   the   rose 

And   all   thy   paths   be   peace ! 


Norwood 

June,  1903. 


PRINTED    BY 
;      HOFFER      PRESS, 
MOUNT  JOY,   PA. 


Oaylord  Bros. 

Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

PAT.  JAN.  21. 1908 


390746 


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